


A Temporary Insanity

by Gallifrey_Immigrant



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, accidental whoffaldi, and now i think i wrote a love ode to twelve, but i was just trying to describe the relationship, clara is awesome, i wasn't even shipping it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 10:16:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4956460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallifrey_Immigrant/pseuds/Gallifrey_Immigrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's as terrible and as beautiful as a fire. You just want to kiss it to taste the burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Temporary Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> I usually don't ship. But I think I accidentally wrote some Whoffaldi. What do you guys think?

He's insane. But I love it.

He's the most infuriating man I've ever met. He calls me an egomaniac? Boy oh boy, he's never seen the size of his ego. Sometimes I think he knows the little ways he gets under my skin. Annoys me, makes me wrack my brain trying to remember why I travel with him.

Then he does something marvelous, like save the galaxy or save my life. Or just smiles at me in that "ooh-I'm-doing-something-naughty-but-you-know-you'll-love-it-in-the-end" way, and I remember I'd die for this man. That when armies are at my feet, when the world is literally about to break, when I'm crying my eyes out, when I can't go on, that he's the hand I can grab on to. He makes it all worth it then.

He's as terrible and as beautiful as a fire. You just want to kiss it to taste the burn. He's as forceful as a ocean, and sometimes I get lost in his speech, in his cleverness, in his atmosphere. But he's so arrogant, so sure he's right, that sometimes I just want to slap him. Occasionally I do. Not my best moment, but I'm no saint, and he thinks he isn't a saint either. But I know better.

I've grown to love the curves of his face, the anger in his eyes. I've seen him face dictators and bullies and murderers with so much rage—so much hate—pouring out of him. Injustice against the weak makes him a cruel animal, makes him seethe as he craves the chance to even the odds. When it's done, he's shamed sometimes of what he says, of what he threatens to do. He wonders how he can be a good man with that much anger inside him. I do what I can to reassure him, to help him realize it's that very anger that makes him a hero. That makes me respect him more.

He usually seems to calm down afterward, then mentions some galactic game show or lovely nebula we can go to. But, when I stare into his deep eyes, I can tell he never really calms down.

But that's why I'm here. To remind him of who he is, when even he forgets. He's my companion, and I'm his, and although I'm smart enough to know this won't last forever (I only think about it when it's dark in my room and all I can hear is the sound of my breath), this game isn't gonna end for a while. And I don't want it to. Not as long as I can play it with him.

He's insane. But I love him.

 


End file.
